A Century (Not Out): Talbot 1919-2010
BY NEAL MARTIN |
Christmas Day 1999. Turkey in the oven. Christmas tree swamped by presents, a majority of them exchanges between pets. A cucumber from Tigger to the tortoise (how thoughtful). Aquatic members of the tropical fish tank have clubbed together to buy millet for the budgerigar. The dog receives a chichi diamante-studded collar from the rabbit. (You can imagine the four-legged queue at Argos.) The family – humans, not pets – assembles for the meal, assorted siblings and grandparents gathering around the table, the ether heavy with gravy and over-boiled Brussels sprouts. Nobody here is an oenophile – far from it. Nevertheless, the family stemware, purchased in the early Seventies, is making a comeback tour. I squint and examine a glass, a bulbous design straight out of Georg Riedel’s worst nightmare, and discreetly brush off a thin film of dust. Soon it will be filled with a special festive claret that will reveal the joys of fermented grape juice to my unsuspecting family. The bird and its trimmings are served, and I ceremoniously begin to pour my precious wine, a 1955 Talbot. I stand back and await gasps of delight...
“Oh, it looks a funny color.”
“Tastes odd.”
“It’s a bit old, innit? It’s gone off.”
“Dad, is there some Liebfraumilch left?”
I should have known better than to pour a classically styled Saint-Julien to a family whose only forays into the vinous world were predicated on wine buoyed by bags of Süssreserve and preferably, as a seal of quality, a blue nun on the label.
I never proffered a wine of noble pedigree again. Henceforth any wine would be young, fruity and easy going.
Over my career I have conducted verticals of nearly all châteaux classified in 1855. Despite visiting many times, Talbot is one that has evaded my capture. To be frank, on some occasions I found it lagging behind its peers, including as part of group blind tastings. My palate is partial to classic Bordeaux; however, there is a limit and there will always be a prerequisite of adequate fruit, freshness, complexity and substance. The appointment of Jean-Michel Laporte, formerly technical director at La Conseillante, suggested that maybe these shortcomings would be addressed. I sincerely hope so, because I have a soft spot for Talbot. I want to see the largest Left Bank grandee perform as well as its Saint-Julien cohorts, such as Léoville-Barton, or its cousin, Gruaud Larose.
In December 2018, the Cordier family – Jean-Paul and Nancy Bignon-Cordier, accompanied by their three children, Philippine, Marguerite and Gustave –organized a vertical tasting at the château to celebrate a century of ownership. Here was my chance to investigate Talbot in detail, gain a clearer picture and ascertain whether my lukewarm reaction to some vintages is well founded or otherwise. Would I discover a period in time when Talbot was challenging the elite? Are there particular growing seasons that suit its terroir? Would they serve over-boiled Brussels sprouts at the post-tasting lunch?
